


Breath Me In, Breath Me Out (I Don't Know If I Could Ever Go Without)

by eyesofshinigami



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Blow Jobs, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Come Eating, Face Sitting, Jaskier in panties, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, PWP, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, it's just porn folks, slight D/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25899535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesofshinigami/pseuds/eyesofshinigami
Summary: Most of the time, it takes Geralt a while to get hard. Whores turn him down, his lovers get bored, and it's just a hassle he doesn't want to deal with.Jaskier is glad to be the one to change that. With his delicious candied watermelon smell and his enthusiasm, he promises to show Geralt a good time.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 55
Kudos: 580





	Breath Me In, Breath Me Out (I Don't Know If I Could Ever Go Without)

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea that I had stewing for a while. We all accept that Witchers have excellent stamina and can stay hard, but I really liked the idea that with his slow heartbeat, it would... take a while. So, I went for it. 
> 
> Title is inspired by Watermelon Sugar by Harry Styles, which also was inspired by [this](https://abluescarfonwaston.tumblr.com/post/625188233902489600) article shared in my discord by nocturnejellyfish. It stuck and I refuse to apologize, lol.
> 
> Beta-ed by the amazingly awesome InkAtHeart, and inspired by the always wonderful Bards of Geraskier on Discord. You horny bastards are amazing and I love you all.

Geralt isn’t unfamiliar with the rumors that circulate about witchers. From stealing babies in the night to devouring people’s souls, he’s pretty sure he’s heard them all. The first three months he spent traveling with Jaskier was a constant barrage of questions about them. Yes, he has fangs. No, he doesn’t prefer raw meat, he just eats it that way when it’s convenient. This continues on through their years of friendship, any time Jaskier hears something new or gets too curious.

It isn’t until the questions start to edge into sexual territory that he gets uncomfortable with Jaskier’s incessant queries. “So, is it true, what they say?”

“Depends. What do they say?” Geralt snarks. He can feel the eyeroll he got from the bard, but the little shit deserves it for asking such vague questions. 

Jaskier clicks his tongue, still strumming his lute absently. “Okay, fine. What they say about witcher stamina. You know, multiple orgasms and such. Or that you can literally go all night.” He lets out a low whistle. “I can’t even imagine such a thing! I think I can maybe have two on a very good night with the right person, but that’s it.”

Geralt’s shoulders tense and he feels his mouth pull into a frown. That was not what he expected Jaskier to ask. “Why do you want to know?” he growls out. 

“Just curiosity, that’s all. If it’s true, I bet that means you get hard at the drop of a hat. To be a man of your age and experience with that sort of capability would be amazing. I mean, what a feat!” Jaskier has that particularly dreamy tone to his voice, which usually means song lyrics follow. 

The very idea of the bard writing some song about the workings of his cock makes him want to punch something. 

So he says so. “Why, so you can write one of your foolish songs about it? Like I want the entire Continent knowing about my proclivities. Fuck off, Jaskier.” 

Jaskier lets the lute fall to his hip and he holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Geralt, please. You know I wouldn’t do that. You’re my friend. I was merely curious.” 

“Well, be fucking curious about something else,” Geralt mutters, clicking his tongue to get Roach moving a little faster. It’s mean, he knows, but it makes him feel a bit better in the moment. Of course, he doesn’t keep the pace for long, just enough to have Jaskier huffing and puffing to catch up to him. 

The bard will forgive him, eventually. He always does. 

\--

Later, when they’re settled into their room for the night, Geralt realizes that maybe Jaskier really was just curious. Jaskier has never meant ill will in the past, there’s no reason to not trust him now. He glances over to where the bard is tuning his lute, humming softly to himself. It’s probably one of the least threatening things Geralt can think of.

It’s just...embarrassing. For a witcher who claims that he doesn’t have feelings, this one rings out loud and clear. Memories of whores charging him double, or past lovers’ bored faces make him grit his teeth.

“Jaskier…” he starts abortively. The words are hard to get out around the clench of his teeth, but he tries again. “The question you asked earlier…”

Jaskier sets his lute aside. “Geralt, look, I don’t want to argue again, and I said before that I was sorry. Please can you-”

“It’s…true. And it isn’t. Especially for me.” 

He’s got Jaskier’s full attention now, and Geralt can’t decide if that’s better or worse. Jaskier makes a motion for him to continue, but the words stick tight in his throat. Heat rises to his cheeks, and even if his skin won’t show the blush, it doesn’t make the shame go away. 

“It’s true we have increased stamina, and the whole multiple orgasms can be true as well, but…” Geralt stops for a moment, giving himself a moment to consider and prepare before he speaks again. Jaskier is his friend. He knows he’s not going to be cruel, even if a small part of him is actually afraid that the bard might be. “It… takes a long time...for me to get hard. But once I’m there, I can be…for a long time.”

There. He said it. 

Tension creeps up on him as Jaskier stays silent for a beat too long. Fuck, he knew this was a mistake, he should have just let it lie. Why did he even bother to tell him in the first place? Now he was just-

Jaskier’s voice cuts through the spiral of Geralt’s thoughts. “That’s all? Oh. I thought it was going to be something more scandalous than that.”

All the air rushes out of Geralt’s lungs. “What?” he asks dumbly.

“What do you mean, what? Were you expecting me to be horrified? I suppose it makes sense, given your slower heartbeat and the way your mutagens work. I think you explained it to me once? How they affect your blood flow so you don’t bleed out, or something? I don’t know, biology was never my forté.” Jaskier continues to babble at him, but Geralt is still stuck on the fact that Jaskier doesn’t seem bothered or concerned. He’s not really sure what to call the bard’s emotion. 

“You… don’t think it’s odd?” Geralt presses. 

He knows Jaskier is a man who enjoys finding pleasure in all shapes and sizes, but it’s boggling his mind that he’s being so casual about this. It’s a topic that Geralt hates bringing up because it prompts questions and looks of disgust. 

Jaskier shrugs. “No, not really. I mean, it’s not like you just told me you’re impotent. And even if you were, that would be none of my business. Certainly not something I would chide you for.” He cocks his head and Geralt doesn’t really like the knowing look in his eye. “You have been before, for it. Haven’t you?”

Geralt grits his teeth to keep from growling. Jaskier doesn’t deserve that, not after the patience and thoughtfulness he’s displayed. It warms the pit of his belly a bit. “Yes. Whores charge double, sometimes triple. They say it’s bad enough they have to service a Witcher, much less one that takes… a while to get going.” 

“Well, that’s a load of horshit, in my opinion. Sounds to me like it’s just an excuse to wring more money out of you. Not that I think sex work is a dishonorable profession by definition, but charging someone for something they cannot help seems like highway robbery.”

Jaskier’s indignation and sour expression are so utterly ridiculous, that Geralt barks out a laugh before he can stop himself. This bard is probably the most ridiculous human he’s ever met in his life, but he finds himself feeling more fond than usual. “Jaskier, I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” he says instead.

He hears the bed creak and then a warm palm cradling his jaw. Jaskier’s hands are always so soft and smell faintly of the lavender lotion he’s so fond of. Underneath, he smells floral sweet and a little like candied watermelon. Strange. “Just because you don’t need me to doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ to. You’re a good man, Geralt of Rivia, underneath that gruff exterior and frankly appalling onion smell.”

Geralt shoves him back onto the bed, Jaskier cackling all the while. He feels better, lighter. It’s not like it was really any of Jaskier’s business, but the fact that he didn’t laugh or joke about Geralt’s condition warmed him up to the bard. Just a little bit.

\--

It doesn’t come up again, not until Geralt finds himself getting chased out of one the brothels in Maribor for taking too long. It’s late in the evening, thankfully, so there aren’t many people on the street to witness it. The madam is still yelling at him, but he tunes her out as he stalks back to the inn. 

He’s horny, angry, and hungry. With this luck, Jaskier is probably entertaining a guest of his own in their room. The thought makes him angrier than it should. He stomps into the inn and curls his lip at the patrons who look up. He’s already on edge and he doesn’t need nosy bar flies sticking their nose where it’s not wanted.

Jaskier is in the middle of a set. Geralt makes his way to an empty table and sits down heavily, almost knocking over the candle resting in the middle. Fuck. He orders himself an ale and whatever dinner is on the menu, refusing to make eye contact with the barmaid and staring down at his folded hands.

The music stops and he hears Jaskier tell the innkeep he’s taking a break. He hears him the closer he gets. When he sits, Geralt is hit by the floral and watermelon scent - stronger with the sweat beading his brow. “Geralt? Are you all right? I thought you’d be… indisposed, most of the evening.” Jaskier’s voice is soft, careful. It’s the same tone Geralt uses when he’s talking to Roach when she’s spooked. 

“Well, I’m not,” he grits out, still not looking up. 

A plate of hot food, meat and potatoes, is set in front of him, but he ignores it in favor of the large mug of ale. Taking a gulp, he finally looks up at the bard sitting across from him. “Is that going to be an issue?”

Jaskier’s brow creases. “No?” What are you talking about?” 

Geralt knows he shouldn’t say it, but the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “Figured you’d already be upstairs with the barmaid upside down. I’m not sleeping in the fucking stables so you can get your rocks off.” 

A beat of silence and Geralt braces himself for Jaskier to fire back. He deserves it, but the shame and frustration is simmering beneath his skin and roiling in his veins. It takes a moment, but Jaskier’s eyes widen and his mouth forms a perfect ‘o’. 

“I think I get it. Well, how about you finish your dinner, I’ll finish my set, and then the two of us are going to go upstairs and have a chat, hmm? Maybe something in your belly will help adjust your attitude a bit before we sit down and talk.” With that, Jaskier stands and swans back up to the raised dais that’s acting as a stage and picks up his lute. 

Part of Geralt wants to tell him to fuck off and go sleep in the stable anyway, just to be contrary. A bigger part of him is curious about what exactly this ‘chat’ is going to entail. His mind buzzes as he eats, barely tasting the food because he’s so distracted. 

When he finishes, he’s tempted to stay and wait for Jaskier, but nervous energy is still thrumming through him. He’ll be able to hear Jaskier through the floor anyway. 

With a nod to the bard, he heads upstairs to their rented room. It smells like the two of them, just the two of them, and it settles something in him. Needing to burn off some of the energy, he unpacks the things he needs from his bags and starts to slowly clean his swords. The repetitive motion of the whetstone back and forth is soothing, familiar. It gives him something to focus on that isn’t the arousal under his skin or the frustration of the nights’ events. 

He has no idea what time it is when Jaskier slips into the room, a bottle of what looks like vodka in his hand. He doesn’t say anything at first, setting the bottle down on the small table near one of the beds and stripping off his doublet and setting it aside. More of that delicious candied watermelon smell wafts up as he strips, making Geralt’s mouth water. 

He swallows and keeps his focus on his sword until Jaskier speaks. “What happened tonight?” he asks, voice calm yet with a hint of steel that Geralt has never heard from the bard before. 

“Got chased out of the brothel for… well, you know.” Geralt doesn’t look up from his hands working the blade. He’s not sure what he’s going to find if he looks at Jaskier’s face. “I… shouldn’t have said that to you. It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t. So you yelled at me because you were… what, sexually frustrated? Angry? Ashamed?” Jaskier fishes, sitting down on the bed closest to where Geralt is seated on the floor. 

Geralt grits his teeth. He doesn’t want to answer, but he supposes he owes it to Jaskier. “All of it.” He presses down so hard his wrist creaks, but he doesn’t stop his motions. “Just glad it was dark outside.”

Jaskier sighs and reaches down to take the whetstone and sword from him. It takes Geralt a moment to process that he’s no longer working, which is probably why he startles when he ends up with a lapful of bard. “I’m sorry that happened to you, darling. It’s not fair. But, I suppose a selfish whore’s bad decision is my gain.”

“Uh,” Geralt replies helpfully. The floral-watermelon smell gets even sweeter, tasting like sugar on the back of his tongue. Heat is starting to pool low in his belly, the arousal that’s been simmering under skin flaring. “Jaskier, what-”

Jaskier puts a halt to whatever he was thinking about saying when he wraps his arms around Geralt’s neck. “Geralt, I’m only going to ask you this once. Would you… would you like to spend the night with me?” Jaskier bites his lip, and this close, Geralt can see the flecks of blue in his eyes, the dusting of pink across his nose. The smell makes his head spin. 

Geralt shakes his head to clear some of the fog that Jaskier’s scent has him under. “Why?” 

The instantaneous thought of _’he’s mocking you, this must be a joke don’t let him hurt you’_ ripples through him, but he bites it back. He knows Jaskier wouldn’t mock him about this. “Why are you asking me this?” 

“Because I want to. Because despite your best efforts, I actually like you. I also think that you deserve to feel good, and I am a rather generous lover,” Jaskier replies with a sly grin. It’s a softer version of the roguish smile he gives potential bedmates from across the room, and having it directed at him is making Geralt’s blood sing in his veins. 

“Even if it takes a while?” 

“All the better, I think. Then I can take my time with you. Explore you. Worship you how I’ve wanted to since the first time I saw you in that shitty tavern in Posada.” Jaskier’s voice drops to a sultry purr that Geralt has never heard before, and it is _good._ “I would spend hours, days, loving you the right way, if you let me.” 

Promises and pretty words don’t usually do anything for Geralt, but listening to Jaskier’s silver tongue has heat bolting through him. Being so in tune with his own body, he can feel his blood rushing south with every slow thump of his heart. 

“Okay,” he says finally, arching up when Jaskier leans down to kiss him. 

Kissing isn’t one of those things that Geralt gets to indulge in often. Whores don’t really like it, and not many of his other lovers he’s had through the years seemed that interested. But Jaskier kisses like he was born to do it. He’s all soft lips and sweet tongue, moving his mouth against Geralt’s like he’d rather be nowhere else in the entire world. Watermelon sugar drowns Geralt’s senses and he feels a bit light-headed. 

They kiss for what feels like hours and Geralt doesn’t miss the way Jaskier’s hard cock is pressing into his belly. His own stubborn one is still soft, even has the heat pooling in his stomach threatens to burn him to the ground. He lets out a soft growl of frustration, which makes Jaskier pull back. “Fuck,” he bites out. 

Jaskier looks down between their bodies, smiling. “I could kiss you forever, I think. But now I think it’s time to move elsewhere. Lie back on the bed for me, darling.” The bard climbs off his lap and Geralt gets to his feet before stretching out across the bed. Jaskier’s eyes roam hungrily over his body and before he’s even settled, Jaskier dives between his legs to tug at his trousers like his life depends on it. He makes quick work of them and his underclothes, only to let out a pleased hum when Geralt’s still soft cock is exposed to the air. It’s a little thicker, but nothing like the rigid shape he can see in the bard’s own breeches. “Perfect,” Jaskier purrs.

Before Geralt can argue, Jaskier ducks down and laves his tongue along his shaft, making his entire body tense. His mouth is hot and wet as he suckles the head, licking across the tip and using his hand to point his cock up. “I… I told you... it-”

“Hush, Geralt. Just let me take care of you,” Jaskier murmurs before going back to his task. He doesn’t seem at all bothered that Geralt’s twitching against his tongue, but still stubbornly soft. Rather, he wraps his lips around the entire thing and sucks him down as best he can. Soft like this, Geralt feels the tip of his cock brush the back of Jaskier’s throat, which makes him moan. It’s sensitive and makes his body shudder with pleasure. “That’s right… I do so love sucking a soft cock. Can fit the whole thing in my mouth if I try.” So, he does. Heat ripples up Geralt’s spine and he reaches out, twining his fingers in his bard’s soft hair. It takes a lot to keep from bucking up into that warm, wet mouth, but he manages. At least until Jaskier pops off and licks him from his balls to his tip before saying, “You can fuck my mouth, if you would like.”

The thought makes his cock flex in Jaskier’s grip. “Like that, do you? Or, I have a better idea. If you’re amenable?” 

Geralt nods eagerly, stripping off his tunic and throwing it to the side. He watches Jaskier get to his feet and slowly remove his outer layers, one by one. The doublet falls, then the pretty chemise he’s so fond of. 

The smell of candied watermelon perfumes the air and it hits Geralt all at once that the delicious smell is that of Jaskier’s arousal. His cock flexes again and he’s tempted to take himself in hand. He’s starting to thicken up, finally, his senses overwhelmed by the sight and sound of his bard before him. 

Jaskier pauses a moment, running fingers through the whorls of hair on his chest before trailing them down to toy with the top of his breeches. “Darling, I’m going to make a feast of you.” He undoes the laces with deft fingers and slides the breeches down to the floor.

Geralt’s mind grinds to a halt. There, with the wet head peeking out, is Jaskier’s hard cock trapped in lavender lace. They’re the kinds of underthings Geralt has seen some of the more expensive whores wear. If he weren’t on his way to getting hard, he certainly would be now. 

He sits up and grabs at Jaskier’s hips, pulling him close enough that he can press his face against the lace. The watermelon smell is strong here, strong enough that Geralt can taste it bursting on the back of his tongue. “Fuck, Jaskier…”

“Do you like them? I know they seem impractical for travel, but they’re so pretty. Something told me I should put them on tonight,” Jaskier purrs. He pets through Geralt’s hair before wrapping the silver locks in his fist. “Show me, please.”

It’s not a request. Geralt lets out a groan and starts to lick at his cock through the lace, up and around the head to catch the salty-sweet flavor there. It has been a long time since he’s sucked a cock, but he knows what he likes when he can actually get it. So, he sucks at Jaskier and shivers at the glorious sounds he’s pulling out of the bard. The grip on his hair tightens and it pulls a gasp out of him, completely unbidden. 

“That’s good, darling, but I know something that would be better. Lay back down, please.” Geralt does as Jaskier commands, falling backwards onto the bed. Once he’s settled, he finds himself pinned beneath the bard, his plush ass settled right onto the witcher’s collarbones. With a wiggle, Jaskier pushes the lace down to catch underneath his balls and letting his cock bob free above Geralt’s face. “You seemed so determined, I thought it cruel to deny you. Suck me some more, and you can have another treat.” 

How could he say no? Geralt opens his mouth and Jaskier feeds the head of his cock inside, throwing his head back with a sigh. His length is a warm weight on Geralt’s tongue and he starts to suck earnestly. His own cock jumps against his thigh, now a little more than half-hard. 

The taste of Jaskier bursts across his tongue and he’s suddenly hungry for it. He grips Jaskier’s hips and encourages him to move, letting him slowly fuck his cock in and out of Geralt’s open mouth. The lace catches in his beard and he moans around his mouthful. 

“Darling, you look so beautiful like this, stretched around my cock. What if I came in your mouth, would that make you hard for me? Then I could worship you until I’m ready again, stretch you out and taste you on my tongue.” 

A bolt of heat fizzles down Geralt’s spine at the absolute filth falling from Jaskier’s lips. He sucks harder, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Jaskier’s waist. Yes, he wants all of that, he wants everything Jaskier wants to give him. The fact that Jaskier wants to is baffling and so, _so_ hot. He pulls off, letting Jaskier’s cock slide out of his mouth before he says, “Please.”

Jaskier grabs his hair again and eases the head of his cock back into Geralt’s willing mouth, starting to pick up the pace as he fucks in and out. The breathy sighs falling from the bard’s lips are getting heavier, the cock in Geralt’s mouth twitching against his tongue. Candied watermelon sits heavy in the back of his throat as Jaskier’s arousal builds and he gets closer. “Going to spill, right on your tongue, I bet you’ll swallow it all, won’t you? Such a good boy for me.” 

Geralt can’t nod but he sucks more eagerly, letting his tongue push along the vein on the underside of Jaskier’s cock. Drool leaks out the corner of his mouth and he can feel his cock thicken further against his thigh. Still not there yet, but he doesn’t even care. Right now he’s focused on making Jaskier come down his throat. 

It happens sooner than he wants. Jaskier lets out a particularly beautiful gasp and his hips still, his cock jerking as hot come spills across Geralt’s tongue. He eagerly swallows all of it as Jaskier’s hips rock as he rides out his orgasm. 

Finally, he lets Jaskier’s cock fall from his lips and looks up to where Jaskier is smiling down at him. “That was delightful, darling. Are you ready for more?” 

An eager nod, and he lets out a grunt when Jaskier swivels around. His beautiful, lace-clad ass is hovering just above Geralt’s face as a warm hand wraps around his cock. He bucks up into the touch and he pulls Jaskier closer to his face. His tongue darts out and licks at Jaskier’s hole through the lace, the slurping noises loud echoing in the room. It seems to spur the bard into action as well, Jaskier enveloping his cock in his mouth again. Where Geralt was sloppy enthusiasm, Jaskier is all smooth technique. He takes Geralt into his mouth and sucks hard, alternating the bobs of his head with the tight clench of his fist. 

He dives deeper between Jaskier’s cheeks, licking and sucking at his hole as Jaskier fucks his mouth down as far as he can on Geralt’s cock. Lips press against the base of his cock and Geralt has to fight not to buck up into it. 

Jaskier must notice because he pulls up, lips slick with spit as he glances over his shoulder and says, “I told you that you could fuck my mouth, Geralt. Don’t deny me the pleasure.” 

Of course, he cannot deny Jaskier anything. Once Jaskier sucks him down, he starts to buck his hips up, losing himself in the tight warmth of his lover’s mouth. His cock is flexing and thickening up at the attention, finally almost all the way hard. 

He has no idea how long they’ve been at this, but Geralt doesn’t care. He’s focused on the hot mouth around his cock and the delicious noises Jaskier makes as he licks and nibbles at him through the lace. 

He reaches up and pulls the panties down, just enough to expose Jaskier’s wet, red hole before he dives back in. He points his tongue and starts to push it in, using his hands to pull the bard’s cheeks apart to get even deeper.

Jaskier moans around his cock and begins a cycle of pleasure, a feedback loop between the two of them. Geralt is fucking Jaskier’s mouth while he’s slurping at Jaskier’s ass like man starved. He pulls his tongue out with a lewd _pop_ before circling it around the furled skin. Spit-soaked lace scratches at his chin and he can feel the wet head of Jaskier’s cock rubbing against his stomach as the bard rocks back against his mouth. The push-pull of them is driving Geralt crazy, his cock flexing in Jaskier’s hot mouth. 

Jaskier pulls off and sits up, grinding his ass back against Geralt’s mouth as another sweet gasp falls from his lips. Candied watermelon hits his nose again and Geralt moan is lost, buried in between Jaskier’s cheeks. “I could ride your tongue all night, dear heart, but I think I’d rather fuck you.” 

A muffled groan is Geralt’s response. His hips twitch up at the thought of being filled, a bolt of heat settling in his pelvis and behind his balls. Jaskier shifts, swinging off of him and moving down the bed in between his legs. 

“Have you been fucked before, Geralt?” Jaskier asks as he is mouthing along Geralt’s cock. The length is thick and flushed full, now. Seeing it heavy against his own hip makes the knot in his belly wind even tighter. And even now, Jaskier is sliding his tongue along the vein on the underside, blue eyes dark with want and lust. 

Geralt must take too long to answer because Jaskier is squeezing the base of his cock, just on this side of too much. It makes him whimper. “Geralt? You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s… been a while,” he admits on a grunt. Jaskier motions for him to continue and Geralt feels a hot flush of shame settle in his cheeks. “A male whore, once or twice. Adventurous female lovers have also fucked me before, with toys. And… uh… Eskel.” 

Jaskier laughs, but the sound is delighted. It chases the heat away from his face. “One day, I’ll make you tell me all about them when your cock is in my mouth. But not tonight. Tonight, I’m going to enjoy you. Will you let me?” he purrs, giving his own cock a long, slow pull. 

His hips buck up into the touch and he gasps a breathless, “Please.” Geralt watches as Jaskier grabs a pot of oil from somewhere in the sheets. Had he been so out of it he hadn’t even noticed he’d grabbed it? 

Jaskier’s long, elegant fingers dip into the pot and he settles back down, staring down at Geralt like he means to devour him.. Anyone else would have gotten bored by now, but Jaskier looks so _hungry._

The first touch to his hole makes him jump, but Jaskier soothes his other hand down one scarred thigh. “Relax, darling. I’ve got you.” With that, he circles around Geralt’s hole with one callused fingertip before he dips inside. The pressure makes Geralt squirm, but Jaskier balances it by licking along his length and over the top of the head. It makes his hips snap up and Jaskier chuckles. “Eager. How long has it been since someone loved you like this?” 

_’Too long,’_ Geralt wants to say. He swallows the words back as Jaskier’s finger pushes further in. The burn lights up his nerves in a way that has him feeling like he’s on fire. 

How a simple touch can overwhelm him like this is just baffling. Jaskier doesn’t give him a moment to take it in before he’s thrusting, pushing in and pulling out as he continues to mouth at Geralt’s cock. 

“Next time, maybe I’ll plug you up and let you fuck me. Keep you nice and full while I ride your cock. I wonder how long I can stay like that, perched on your cock before you come?” It’s clear he doesn’t really expect an answer, instead he pulls out and adds another finger on the stroke back in. Geralt bites his lip around the fullness, imagining how full he’s going to feel when it’s Jaskier’s cock filling him like this. That thought has him twitching, a dribble of precome hitting his belly. He lets out a low groan when Jaskier leans close and laps it up with his tongue. Another wave of watermelon sugar hits his nose and his mouth waters. “Look at you. Anyone who couldn’t take their time and have you spread out like this is a fool.” 

Jaskier’s words are honey sweet and make his entire body feel like a giant nerve ending; everything feels like too much and not enough all at once. His bard plays him like the best instrument, the strokes of his fingers driving him to madness. He’s hard enough that his cock is pulsing in time with his heartbeat and his blood pounds in his ears. “Jaskier, stop talking and do it already,” he grits out. 

But Jaskier only tuts at him. “One more. Take one more for me.” He pulls and out and adds another finger, curling them on the upstroke. He hits a spot that has Geralt’s hips shooting off the bed. “Like that? I can do it again. I bet I could make you come just from playing with you there. Would you be able to come again, if I do?” 

“I’d… stay hard,” Geralt bites out, trying not to whine. His hips writhe as he fucks back down against Jaskier’s fingers, wanting to chase that sensation one more time. “I can come more than once if you want me to.”

“Oh, but I do,” Jaskier purrs, hooking his fingers. He doesn’t so much as stroke as he rubs that spot, making Geralt moan. The heat of it spreads through him and before he knows it, he’s coming all over himself. 

His cock flexes as hot spurts of come splatter across his belly. His entire body is taut like a lute string and he hears Jaskier groan as he starts to fuck him with his fingers again. “That was _gorgeous._ I think you deserve a treat after that performance.” He leans down and drags his tongue through a smear of spend on Geralt’s thigh before he pulls his fingers out of Geralt completely. “Are you ready, my Witcher?” 

Of course he’s ready. He’s been ready since Jaskier started sucking his cock earlier. Instead of words, he replies with a noise that sounds suspiciously like a whine. He doesn’t want to beg, but it seems like Jaskier is not going to make him. He watches as the bard grabs the oil, coating his cock and shuffling forward. There’s another spike of that delicious watermelon scent and Geralt’s mouth waters again. 

The first press of the thick, blunt head of Jaskier’s cock almost makes Geralt tense. He forces his body to relax and with another push the head pops inside. At first, the stretch of it burns and feels like too much too soon. Jaskier rocks inside with slow, short thrusts, throwing his head back as he fills Geralt up with his cock. “You feel so good. So tight and good for me,” Jaskier murmurs. The scratch of lace against his ass and thighs makes Geralt moan again. It grows louder when he realizes that Jaskier is now fully seated inside of him. His cock feels thicker than it looks but Jaskier graciously gives him a couple of moments to adjust.

He’d been through worse, but this burn, the slight edge of pain, felt glorious. “I’m going to start moving now.” Jaskier runs his fingers down Geralt’s shins and grasps his ankles, pulling his legs further up towards his chest. 

Then, he begins to move.

It still burns, but it’s slowly morphing into something else. The steady rocking of Jaskier’s hips makes him feel full and it isn’t long until he begins to feel the coil of heat behind his balls. His cock bounces with each thrust and his head falls back at the slowly building pleasure he feels. He should feel trapped, splayed out like this, but he doesn’t. The heady, candied watermelon scent of Jaskier’s arousal fills his senses and his eyes roll back in his head. He’s no stranger to pleasure, living as long as he has, but this feels _different._

“Geralt, my darling, you look so exquisite like this. I’m going to come just from how pretty you are, speared on my cock,” Jaskier babbles, rolling his hips harder into Geralt’s. The slow, hot slide of his cock inside of Geralt is slowly driving the Witcher mad. Jaskier reaches down and makes a tight fist around Geralt’s cock and starts to stroke. The two sensations have him writhing on the bed. 

No wonder so many are eager to share Jaskier’s bed. Geralt feels like he might die of pleasure before the night is through. 

Heat curls low in his belly and he can feel his second orgasm nearing. He chokes out a, “Jaskier, I’m going to-” but Jaskier cuts him off with a hard thrust that makes him grunt. 

“Do it. Come as many times as you can, love. I want to see you make a mess of us both.”

That has Geralt careening off the edge again, his cock flexing in Jaskier’s fist as he spills across them both. Jaskier lets out a pretty noise and stops, taking several deep breaths. “I need a moment. You’re… very tight and almost took me with you,” he admits with a sheepish grin. 

After a beat or two, he starts to thrust again. Slow, deep rolls of his hips that have Geralt wanting to rock back up against him. So, he does. “Mmm, that’s divine. Tell me, do you have at least one more in you?” 

His cock, still hard in Jaskier’s fist, twitches again. “Yes. I could probably come more… if you want.” Geralt rocks his hips back into Jaskier and he moans at the way Jaskier’s cock flexes inside of him. “Do you?” 

Jaskier pretends to consider, still rocking into him. “I think one more will suffice. We don’t all have insane Witcher stamina, you know.” With that, he starts to fuck into Geralt faster, pushing himself even deeper. 

He looks beautiful like this, Geralt thinks to himself. Sweat glistens on Jaskier’s forehead and that delicious scent keeps filling his nose as the bard gets nearer to his second orgasm. He pushes back into Jaskier’s hard thrusts and it feels like heaven. Jaskier shifts just a bit and Geralt writhes when he strikes that spot again. Heat blooms in his stomach and pours outward through every inch of his body. It skirts the edge of too much again, which just makes it even better. “Fuck, Jaskier,” he grinds out. He wants to tell him how good it feels, how his skin feels too small with all the pleasure coursing through his veins. Words fail him now, punched out of him by the constant feeling of that delicious spot inside of him being hit now with the head of Jaskier’s cock. 

His knees are practically at his chest now, neatly folded in half as Jaskier keeps pounding into him. Caged in like this, he can’t thrust back like he wants, but Jaskier has him dizzy with how good it feels. He’ll gladly let the bard fuck him every night if he gets to feel like this. 

Jaskier’s breath picks up and his thrusts get more frantic. Geralt feels it the moment that the other man comes. The feeling of Jaskier’s cock jerking inside of him makes him moan and clench down, milking Jaskier for everything he can give. It’s a strange feeling, the liquid heat of Jaskier’s spend inside of him, but he finds that he likes it. It makes him writhe again. 

As soon as Jaskier finished coming, he pulls out and crawls down, shoving his fingers back inside Geralt before he can protest the loss. Then, as if this couldn’t get any more overwhelming, Jaskier is leaning down and shoving his tongue into Geralt’s hole. He’s lewdly slurping his own come back out, the obscene squelch of his fingers only making Geralt even hotter. His pleasure coils tight and then he’s coming again, cock jerking as he adds to the mess on his stomach. He clenches down on Jaskier’s fingers while he rides it out, forcing his hips to roll to a stop when the waves of orgasm subside. 

Jaskier is grinning up at him like a loon, face wet and lips cherry red. Geralt pulls him up and goes to kiss him, but Jaskier shakes his head. “Not until I clean my mouth.” 

Geralt snorts. “You can eat your come out of my ass, but you can’t let me kiss you after?” he says. Of all the things they’ve done tonight, this is what makes him fussy? “I don’t care, Jaskier. I’ve had worse things in my mouth than the taste of my own ass.” 

Jaskier rolls his eyes, but lets himself be pulled down. “Fine, fine. Excuse me for being polite.” Geralt shuts him up with a kiss, licking the inside of his mouth. He pours everything he can’t say into it, but when he feels Jaskier squeeze his arm, he thinks he gets it. 

They separate after a moment and Geralt nuzzles Jaskier’s throat. “Thank you,” he says simply. 

“No need to thank me, darling. Pleasuring you was a treat that I intend to indulge in often from here on out. Honestly, the fact that you take longer than most is much more fun.” Jaskier wiggles out of the panties and tosses them to the floor with the rest of their clothing. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Geralt rubs his still hard cock against Jaskier’s hip. It was lazy, no intent behind it other than to show Jaskier just how much he enjoyed it. “Hmm, could have kept going, if you wanted.” 

Jaskier lets out a yawn. “Maybe some other time. Two is usually my limit.” He stretches and gets up from the bed, walking to the small washbasin on the other side. After rinsing his mouth out, he comes back and takes care in cleaning Geralt up, wiping the spend from his belly and his cock as gingerly as he can. Geralt hisses at the contact. “It will go down eventually, won’t it? I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable all night.”

“It will, once my body calms down. Don’t worry about it,” Geralt insists. Already he can feel the heat coursing through his veins starting to ebb, now that Jaskier isn’t stoking the fire. “You took good care of me.” 

The rag gets thrown to the floor and Jaskier curls up beside him. They’ve slept together in the same bed before, but this was different. The weight of it hits Geralt and he doesn’t mind. “And I’ll do it again, as often as you’d like. Think of all the coin you’ll save!” Jaskier teases, but then his face grows serious. “I meant it, Geralt. I like you. I like you quite a bit, and I wouldn’t mind if you let me have you. And… you could have me, in return, if you wanted.” For the first time that night, Jaskier looks unsure. He bites his lips and his blue eyes are wide. 

How could Geralt resist? Instead of words, he captures Jaskier’s mouth in a kiss. It’s slow, sensual. It’s the kiss of a lover, not a one-night stand. Jaskier gasps into it and returns it just as sweetly, his fingers dancing over Geralt’s jaw. When they part, his eyes are luminous and he’s smiling. “Well, when you put it like that…” 

“Go to sleep, Jaskier.” He takes the bite out of his words by settling his hand on Jaskier’s hip, drawing him close. Geralt buries his nose in Jaskier’s soft hair and sniffs. The watermelon scent is starting to fade, leaving the hint of wildflowers and wood oil that the bard always smells like. It’s just as delicious as the candied smell of his arousal and Geralt decides he likes it. 

They fall asleep like that, intertwined and sated. 

-END-

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Love it? Come yell at me in the comments. 
> 
> Discord || #eyesofshinigami0707  
> Tumblr || eyesofshinigami


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